


Entanglements

by Himmelreich



Series: Every Wednesday, I'm here, in jail [4]
Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime)
Genre: Gen, M/M, Prompt Fic, a deer made me do it, half of it at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 11:38:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3849520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Himmelreich/pseuds/Himmelreich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>On this afternoon, Inaho had stared at him intently for a few seconds, which was not that unusual, and then, without any prelude had decided: “You need a haircut.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Entanglements

**Author's Note:**

> I had already started with this one, not quite sure where to go with it, when my friend requested "Truth or Dare". Maybe it will help you appreciate it despite your hair trauma, my deer ヽ(◕ ◡ ◕)ﾉ

“Hold still,” Inaho reminded him for about the third time, and Slaine sighed.

It had started out the usual, too, with Inaho waltzing in for his weekly visit. Usually, he then either waited for Slaine to ask him about how Asseylum and Vers were faring, or, when he was in a more talkative mood, started retelling events of his week that often were so random in nature and entirely inaccessible to Slaine that sometimes he wondered if Inaho was making fun of him. On the upside, however, by now he had learned all of the UFE top brass members’ names without ever having seen a single one of them as well as fifteen different ways of preparing Japanese omelette.

On this afternoon, Inaho had stared at him intently for a few seconds, which was not that unusual, and then, without any prelude had decided: “You need a haircut.”  
“Maybe I’m trying to grow it out,” Slaine had suggested.  
“Even if so, the tips are uneven in length and in poor condition. You should have it cut, even if just a little.”  
Slaine had shrugged in honest indifference.

“If you think it’s necessary, go ahead and leave a note to the wardens.”  
Inaho had checked the time on his phone and then signalled Slaine to stand up.  
“I’ve still got enough time left today, let’s do this now.”  
“You?” Slaine had asked, incredulous, but Inaho had looked at him as if it was self-evident that, yes, of course.

“I’ve been cutting my sister’s hair ever since middle school.”  
“I’ve never seen your sister.”  
“Trust me, she looks fine.”  
Slaine had considered protesting for just a second more, but then the thought had occurred to him that in the end, it did not even matter. Even if Inaho should mess up tremendously, it was not as if he had any big public appearances planned any time soon, so his hair was the least of his concerns, really.

“If it makes you happy,” he had said, and without a further word, Inaho had escorted him to the staff’s changing and bathrooms.  
“Go ahead and wash your hair first, I’ll organise a comb and a pair of scissors in the meantime.”  
Slaine had complied without any more arguing, and little later, he had been sitting on a chair in the middle of the tiled room, a towel around his shoulders and Inaho’s hands in his hair.

“You grew it out during your reign as a Count, didn’t you?” Inaho assessed, carefully disentangling the knots with minimal force. He had not been lying about having done this before, obviously, and it felt nice, nothing compared to the rough treatment Slaine had gotten during his time as a servant.  
“I honestly had other things on my mind back then than what to do with my hair.”  
“Really now. And here I was wondering if it was conscious rebellion, given that out of all the Versian nobles I’ve encountered so far, you have by far the messiest hair.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” Slaine asked, trying to turn his head back to look at Inaho, but he was stopped by gentle pressure to his temples from Inaho’s fingers.  
“Keep looking straight forward. And no, it was not. Most of their hairstyles look really high maintenance, that would be impractical and too much trouble, in my opinion.”  
“Low gravity and air humidity in space helps,” Slaine chuckled, trying to make out some point on the tiled walls to fix his gaze on. He settled on one of the shower heads. “Though I don’t think I could have pulled off these styles even if I had tried, my hair is too unruly for that.”  
“I noticed, it’s very different in texture from my sister’s.”

Inaho sounded as if that was an interesting new discovery, and Slaine held back from pointing out that maybe, it was because different from Kaizuka Yuki, he was not an Asian girl.  
“Are you sure you’re qualified to do this? Aren’t you lacking, what’s it called, depth perception?”  
“That would be your fault,” Inaho replied evenly, “and also, this is me cutting your hair, not me operating on your open heart, don’t fret.”

Slaine felt Inaho separate a thin layer of hair from the rest, combing it upwards and keeping it in place.  
“How much should I cut?”  
“I don’t care. You were the one who insisted I had to have it cut in the first place, do as you like.”  
There was a noncommittal hum in response, and then Slaine heard the scissors opening.

For a while, all that filled the room around them was the constant snipping sounds, Inaho working calmly and meticulously, layer for layer.  
“We could play a game,” he then suddenly announced, apropos nothing.  
“I spy with my little eye something that is white. It’s the wall in front of me, to give you a hint,” Slaine baited, not viciously, but as usual, Inaho did not loose his composure. Arguing with him was a lot like manoeuvring in low gravity zones, barely anything to hold on to and most of the time, one was pretty lost, really.

“I was thinking of something different. I suppose you’re familiar with the basic concept of Truth or Dare?”  
Slaine tried not to laugh in order to keep his head still.  
“I am.”  
“Good. You start. Which one is it?”  
“Truth,” Slaine decided, closing his eyes, focussing on the feeling of constant movement in his hair as Inaho continued his work.

“Can you swim?” Inaho inquired immediately, and Slaine decided that he had probably been mentally preparing a list of things he wanted to know for a while now.  
“What’s with this random question?” he asked in amused confusion. “I can swim, yes, but I’d have told you that anyhow, without being bound by the rules of this game.”  
“I was interested in knowing,” Inaho sounded unfazed, “so I took this chance. We could of course play the game more closely to the way it’s usually done. I could have you rank the guards from the most to least attractive in your eyes for ex-”  
“No thank you,” Slaine interrupted him quickly, clearing his throat. “So, my turn. Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” Inaho said without skipping a beat.  
“How bad was the pain and rehab?”  
The snipping sounds abruptly stopped.  
Inaho seemed to consider his reply, and Slaine waited patiently. Then, slowly, Inaho picked up his task again.  
“On a scale of personal comparison value from one to ten, a ten.”  
Slaine had expected nothing less. Inaho was honest to the point that it was painful, but he was grateful for that, really. It made things uncomplicated between them.

“Truth,” he announced, opening his eyes again.  
“Explain to me why, to your best knowledge, the sky appears blue to us.”  
Inaho stepped in front of him now, moving on to work on Slaine’s fringe, and Slaine kept his eyes fixed on the black of Inaho’s tie, visible for once in full since he had taken off his pullover and uniform jacket, the sleeves of this white shirt rolled up.  
“It’s simple refraction of light particles, isn’t it?” Slaine answered with a frown, and for some reason, his reply made Inaho laugh quietly to himself, an occurrence so rare that Slaine grew suspicious instantly.

“What’s so funny about that?”  
“You’re wrong,” Inaho said, almost fondly, as if that explained everything, and even if Slaine could not see his face, he could hear the other was smiling.  
“Wrong?”  
“Wrong,” Inaho reaffirmed, “but nevermind, it’s fine. It helped me in its own way.”  
“You make no sense,” Slaine complained with a sigh.  
“Sorry. Dare.”

“Ten one-armed push-ups, then.”  
Inaho let go of his hair at that, leaving Slaine free to tilt up his head and meet Inaho’s frowning expression.  
“Seriously?”  
“You’re a soldier, aren’t you? This can’t be new to you.”  
Inaho looked at him for a second more, before wordlessly shoving scissors and comb into his shirt pocket along with the tip of his tie, stepping back and lowering himself to the floor. Slaine was only half surprised Inaho was actually going to do it.  
“Ten in total or ten for each side?” he asked, already in position, and the earnestness of his question had Slaine laugh.

“Ten in total is sufficient,” he instructed, and Inaho nodded, pulling through with the exercise in a fast, steady rhythm, his breathing only growing slightly more laboured. Once finished, he quickly came to his feet, dusting off his hands, and moved back to cut Slaine’s hair as if all of this was not completely absurd. His entire attitude brought a normality Slaine’s life had not had in years, and that alone was insane but pleasant.

“Truth or dare?” Slaine heard Inaho ask as he shut his eyes once more against the bits of hair now falling on his face, victims to the other’s blades.  
“Dare.”  
Inaho seemed to think longer on this one, and Slaine wondered if he might have preferred to ask him more random questions instead. His approach to the game seemed to be a trivia and science quiz, which somehow was very Inaho in its own right.  
“Join me for a sparring match next time I’m here. So far my stats against Vers citizens in hand-to-hand combat is one win, one loss, I’d like to see how I’d fare against you.”

Inaho must have put scissors and comb away again, because suddenly, Slaine felt the other’s fingers first ruffle his fringe and then carefully brush away the cut off hair from his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. Slaine remained still, letting Inaho do as he pleased.  
“It’ll be my pleasure,” he said, smiling. “But know that I won’t hold back, not even because of your eye.”  
“Of course not,” Inaho agreed, sounding almost offended at the thought, and then he retreated, pulling the towel around Slaine’s shoulders with him and putting distance between them again. “I’m done.”

Slaine opened his eyes again, and saw Inaho looking pleased with himself. He got up to walk back into the changing room to judge the result in the mirror.  
“What do you think?”  
Inaho was standing behind him, meeting Slaine’s eyes in the mirror, and Slaine caught himself smiling back.  
“You didn’t cut off much in the end,” he sidestepped the question, reaching up to rake his fingers through his hair. Inaho had done a solid job, and he had been right about it before - with the unkempt ends removed, Slaine’s hair fell more nicely, still in uncoordinated waves, but no longer in resigned chaos.

“Yes.” Inaho reached out to brush some more cut hair from Slaine’s neck. “I suppose if you want it shorter after all, I’d have to cut it again, soon.”  
“I wouldn’t mind that, actually,” Slaine said, quietly, and Inaho’s touch lingered just slightly longer than necessary.  
“Me neither.”


End file.
